


Ballerina Metalhead

by a_crested_eagle



Series: Overwatch Dystopia AU Stand-alone Sequels [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Fluff, Morning Cuddles, Ouihaw, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:16:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28933890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_crested_eagle/pseuds/a_crested_eagle
Summary: Amélie's rebel phase as she told it one morning where neither one of them wanted to get out of bed.
Relationships: Elizabeth Caledonia Ashe/Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix
Series: Overwatch Dystopia AU Stand-alone Sequels [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775716
Kudos: 11





	Ballerina Metalhead

It was a cloudy morning in the Caledonia mansion. The dawn mist was gone, but the moisture had remained in the air. The atmosphere was heavy and just right for the residents of the mansion to stay in bed.

Ashe was in the market for a new leather jacket and was scrolling through offers on her phone. Amélie was huddling next to her, absentmindedly watching the clothes scroll by in the phone.

“Oh, hey, check this out,” Ashe pressed on an item and rotated her phone horizontally, screen side up.

The blue hologram of a leather jacket popped from the screen. It was dark, with broad shoulder pads and two straps around the collar and waist. It looked simple and straightforward, and somewhat familiar to Amélie, although she could think why.

“I thought you didn’t like these… strap things around your neck,” Amélie said, her voice raspy and sleepy.

“I don’t. But this looks identical to my first one. The one Bob found in the trash when we first ran from home. I’ve told you the story, yeah?”

“Mhmm- _oui_...”

Amélie was still half-asleep. This was too early for her. Their mornings were usually spent apart. Ashe would get up at 5 or 6 am, go for a run for an hour, take a shower for one more, then move around the mansion, cleaning whatever she found until 9. Then she would make breakfast. By the time she was done, Amélie was just waking up.   
For that reason, it took Amélie a few minutes to realise why the jacket had looked so familiar.

“Hey, hey, go back to the hologram,” she asked.

“Did you see somethin?” Ashe left the checkout page and pulled up the product again.

“What’s the company? Who makes them?” Amélie’s head was resting on Ashe’s shoulder and she couldn’t clearly see the maker. Or, more accurately, she didn't feel like searching for the names on the screen.

Ashe pressed on the screen and the designer, company and current seller’s names all popped up in holograms around the jacket. One of those was familiar. Amélie snickered at the sight of the company name.

“What?” Ashe looked down at Amélie.

“That was also my first leather jacket.”

Ashe put down the phone and straightened her back, causing Amélie’s head to fall in her lap and earning a displeased grunt from the ballerina. She ignored it, still shocked.

“You? In a leather jacket? Willingly?” she asked in disbelief.

“I was quite the rebel as a teen. At least, it’s what my parents called me.” Amélie smiled and adjusted her head on Ashe’s thighs, getting comfy.

“Bullshit.”

“No, no. I was,” Amélie chuckled. “I got really into rock and metal at my teens. I was… around fourteen - sixteen years old..? Around that time.”

“Metal. You. A metalhead.” Ashe paused after each word. “I know you listen to some old 70s rock sometimes, but metal?”

“Metalhead is an exaggeration, I think. It was just power metal, sometimes a bit of melodic, stuff like that.”

“What’s power metal? Bodybuilder bands?”

“What? No!” Amélie laughed. “Oh, how do I explain it..?”

Ashe played with Amélie’s hair as she waited for her partner to find the words. It always surprised her how naturally slick Amélie’s hair was.

“Okay, okay. Tell me a metal song you know.”

“Dunno… Umm… Nothing Else Matters? I think the band’s called Metallica?”

“Ah...” Amélie gave her a blank stare.

“What now?”

“That band was mostly heavy metal but you picked one song that many wouldn’t even call metal, more like hard rock. I’ve even read about people calling it pop and I don’t want to comment on their grasp of music, mostly because they have none. But okay, let us take Nothing Else Matters as a base and-” Amélie stopped as she noticed how Ashe was looking at her. “What?”

Ashe had her hands in front of her mouth in a shocked expression, although her wide smile was visible from the sides.

“I’m dating a music nerd. Oh, how far I’ve fallen.”

“Oh, shush. You’re a gun nerd.”

“I’m not!” Ashe perked up, fake-offended.

“No? So I should get you a Sharps rifle with a plastic body then?”

Ashe’s eye twitched.

“You wouldn’t,” she said carefully.

“What? It’s painted to look like wood, so what is-”

“It’s too light, Amélie!” Ashe cut her off. “It’s like I’m holding a goddamned SMG! I can’t aim properly when it fucking wobbles with every twitch of my fingers, let alone firing with that cursed fast RPS they have. Plastic carbine? Let alone a Sharps?! God! You make a carbine with plastic and you steal all it’s soul, okay? Right, lookie here: what you need is wood. Good old fashioned wood is the proper way to make a rifle base. Build with love and care by hand, not from a lifeless mould. God, I- Oh.” Ashe forcefully closed her mouth, seeing the huge smile on Amélie’s face. “Oh, I see what you mean.”

Amélie couldn't hold it anymore and burst into laughter.

“Okay, okay.” Ashe said after a while, “You were telling me about the bodybuilder bands?”

Amélie punched her in the arm.

“Power metal,” she corrected her.

“Same thing.”

“Okay, fine. So, do you remember how ‘Nothing Else Matters’ goes?”

“Dun, dun dun dun, din din, tin-tun, tin-tin tun, tin-tin tin tun..?” Ashe mumbled the notes. “Something like that.”

Amélie rolled her eyes.

“Alright, close enough. So take that, but faster. More epic, more... energetic!” She thought about it for a second. “Power metal makes you want to pick up a sword and go battle a dragon or something like that. Does that make sense?”

“Kinda. So what bands did you listen to?”

“Oh, you know. Classics like Ensiferum, Stratovarius. Bit of Powerwolf and Amaranthe. Those were the main ones. Oh, some Sabaton too, I think you’d like their themes more than I did.”

“Right...” Ashe was so confused.

“Ensiferum was my favourite.”Amélie continued. “I really liked how their sound evolved. And they stated active for more than twenty years.”

“Okay.”

Amélie snickered.

“Hey, wanna hear some song titles?”

“Hit me.”

“Smoking Ruins, Fright Night, We Drink Your Blood...” Amélie paused, braising for the tease the next one would cause. “Die, Die, Crucify.”

Ashe pushed her off her lap.

“Get out here! Now you’re just making these up.”

Amélie rolled back giggling.

“I have some on my phone. Should we listen to Die, Die, Crucify?”

“Not a real song, honey.” Ashe shook her head.

“Pass me my phone and we’ll find out.”

“And why you’re not getting up to get it?” Ashe asked as she stretched to the nightstand where the phone was.

“I like laying on your thighs.” Amélie got comfier.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” Ashe returned, giving her the phone.

“I sleep in your bed and live at your house.”

“Yea, yea,” Ashe didn’t have a counter to that. “Found the song yet?”

Amélie showed her her phone. The song was indeed called Die, Die, Crucify. The cover had three bishops with wolf faces in a dark background.

“Blood of the Saints, Powerwolf,” Ashe read the title in the middle of the artwork. “That the album?”

“Oh, yes. Lot’s of great songs in that one. Here, let me play it,” She pressed play and an electric guitar started blasting, accompanied by slower powerful drums.

Three minutes later, the song finished.

“What do you think?” Amélie asked. The question brought back an old memory. She was fifteen, nervously showing her friends this different piece of music.

“Bit too wild for my taste to be honest,” Ashe answered after some thought. “I do like the energy but it's kinda too much for me though. Do ya got anything slower?”

“Yes! Give me a second.” Amélie said, excited.

“Before that, I got a question.”

“Yes?”

“Did you dance with any of these songs? Your ballerina dance I mean.” Ashe smirked.

“I did! I adapted one song into a routine! It was so hard to get right, especially since I wasn’t at the level I am now.” Amélie laughed at the memory. “It was called, fittingly, Fire Dance. Here, it’s this one.” She played a fast-paced song. “It was a real pain to follow the beats, but sooo satisfying when I pulled it off.”

“You’re mad.”

“Thanks, you-”

Amélie was interrupted by Ashe’s stomach growling. They locked eyes.

“We should make breakfast.”

“Yea, probably,” Ashe placed her hand at Amélie’s back and pushed her upwards.

“Oh! I’ll make _crêpes_ , It’s been a while since last time.” Amélie jumped out of bed. “What do you want with them?”

“Bacon and eggs.” Ashe stretched before getting out of bed.

“Again? Come on, try some _crème_ or honey. Or chocolate!”

“Bacon. And eggs,” she repeated.

“You’re a savage.”

“But ya love me.” Ashe flashed her a big smile.

“Sometimes, your food choices make me question why.”

**Author's Note:**

> My search history is filled with guns, ballerina performances and metal.  
> I fucking love writing.


End file.
